


You Could Use A Break

by azureheavens



Series: Being my friend is very sexy of you [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Banter, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Hair, Introspection, Light-Hearted, Post-Time Skip, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, do u know how much willpower it took to not make them kiss, slow burns take too long im dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23458705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureheavens/pseuds/azureheavens
Summary: Hilda announced herself by carefully tiptoeing in and then loudly dropping the stack on the closest table.Claude didn’t flinch. He waved a hand without looking up. “Evening, Hilda.”Hilda’s jaw dropped. “How did you know it was me?”“You sighed when you came in. Having been your venting partner of choice many times over, I’d know that sigh anywhere.” He glanced up at her with sparkling green eyes, then immediately went back to his maps.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Series: Being my friend is very sexy of you [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1509341
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	You Could Use A Break

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote and edited this fic in two days, a new record for me. Shows how much I’ve been looking forward to getting this far. (Spoilers: A lot)
> 
> So far these entries have been pretty light-hearted, but the next two after this will be more serious. Just a little... warning.

“Please, help! The infirmary ran out of supplies!”

“How soon will the next weapon shipment come in? Everything is rusted…”

“Who’s the training master here?! These recruits don’t know their blade from their ass!”

Hilda didn’t even oversee half of what was reported to her, but the complaints were never-ending, like filthy water down a sewage pipe. A huge pain, but they had to be dealt with… The others always had their noses in other work, some of it at her request. The least she could do was hear everyone out, soothe their worries a little, and hand them off to someone more capable.

Part of her wished this meant the professor and Claude would keep her off the front lines. In a way, it worked. Her role as a dancer was more than enough to keep her away from danger. Sure, if someone got too close she’d easily deal with them. Mostly she made sure she could help everyone do their best work. In the end, isn’t that what she wanted most?

Regardless, their days off from drills and councils were a welcome relief. Hilda typically spent them sleeping in, taking tea with Marianne, or chatting with some of the Goneril recruits so no weird reports found their way to her brother.

Byleth also took tea with her on occasion. She was just the same as Hilda remembered: Calm eyes appraising you, narrowing in on each weakness but somehow turning into a strength. A weird talent, to say the least. Even Hilda could tell she was improving in her own way, but she wasn’t sure how much she liked it. But the energy in the monastery was unmistakable: Professor Byleth’s mere presence brought hope to everyone.

And if Hilda could help in any little way, she’d find the time for it.

The problem, however, was Claude. He acted like a slouch back in the day, but it hid how diligent he was. That said, he never stayed in one place! Throughout a single day Hilda would find him in the dining hall, then the training grounds, then the marketplace, then the cardinal’s room. It was exhausting just to keep track of him!

Admittedly, it worried her… To his credit, he didn’t seem unhappy. Claude had a knack for turning problems into solutions, but how much could one person take? She had spent nearly half the day trying to find him, nearly giving up before Byleth handed her a recruitment roster and asked her to bring it to Claude in the library. Of course he’d be there…

Hilda hefted the documents up the stairs, her worries about Claude keeping her from foisting them on someone else. Candles lit the hallway to stave off the growing dark, the setting sun taking its turn to relax so the rest of them could as well. Half of her doubted he would actually be there. Just to check, she poked her head through the doorframe.

She found Claude sitting alone at one of the tables, layering maps on top of each other, resting his chin on his hands as his eyes scanned the layout. His jacket hung on the rung of his chair, leaving him with a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and the first button undone. A small lamp sat by his side, making it look like he planned to stay for a long time.

Hilda announced herself by carefully tiptoeing in and then loudly dropping the stack on the closest table.

Claude didn’t flinch. He waved a hand without looking up. “Evening, Hilda.”

Hilda’s jaw dropped. “How did you know it was me?”

“You sighed when you came in. Having been your venting partner of choice many times over, I’d know that sigh anywhere.” He glanced up at her with sparkling green eyes, then immediately went back to his maps.

Hilda pursed her lips, but said nothing. She glided over to his workstation, hands behind her back, leaning curiously over his shoulder. Marching routes leading from the Garreg Mach up to the hottest place to be these days: Ailell. Hilda groaned quietly.

“I know how you feel,” said Claude. “Not the vacation you hoped for, but we need those supplies. We’ll get there just fine, but coming back with more soldiers means packing more rations than we need at the start.”

“Uh huh,” said Hilda.

“That said, we shouldn’t bring a full company with us, make it harder to track us. The less Edelgard’s goons see of us, the better. Don’t you think?”

“Uh huh,” said Hilda.

Claude paused, shooting her a look. “I’m not boring you, am I?”

“No, of course not!” Hilda playfully shook his shoulder. “You’re going to bring me with you on this trip, I’m sure. Might as well know how it’ll go ahead of time.”

“How pragmatic.” Claude smiled. He leaned back in his seat and stretched, letting out a comically long groan. “I’ve stared at so many charts my eyes are seeing grids everywhere. Anyway, did you need me for something?”

“Not me,” Hilda chirped, “but the professor wanted to make sure you had an updated roster. That Imperial attack a few weeks ago really messed with us, so we need Mr. Leader Man to approve who will come on the next march.”

“Thanks,” Claude muttered, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Depending on who they are, maybe we could bring a few of them with us while the rest train here. We need to leave some generals behind in case there’s another attack. Things will start to look better once we receive aid from Judith.”

Hilda frowned, playing with the hem of her glove. A lighter topic of conversation was sorely needed for him. “What’s Judith like, anyway?”

Claude smiled up at her. “To start with, she’s brilliant. Her lands are meticulously maintained with enough strong troops to make any noble jealous. Also, I’m her favorite. I doubt she would march into a place lovingly coined the Valley of Torment for anyone else.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky!” Hilda smiled, knocking her hip against him. “You know, Baltie has been talking nonstop about how excited he is to see her. Going on and on, in detail, of how absolutely gorgeous she is. I have to ask: Are the rumors true?”

Claude made a face as if she asked him to rate the hotness of his grandmother. “Well, Balthus does stand true to his opinions… I’m more interested in the soldiers she’s trained if you must know.”

Hilda shrugged, looking away. “I figured as much…”

Stifling a yawn, Claude returned to his maps. He propped his forehead on his palm, rubbing his temple. “Thanks for bringing those, by the way. I won’t hold you any longer. I know how terribly busy you’ve been.”

 _How busy_ I’ve _been…?_ Hilda thought. Claude stared blankly at the routes, the light from his lamp casting shadows on his face. Exhaustion started to carve lines under his eyes, more pronounced with the lighting. Had he been sleeping?

“Once I look through those rosters,” he continued, “I’ll amend my notes and lug myself to the dining hall for dinner. Promise.”

“If you say so…” Hilda kept an eye on him as she started toward the exit. Claude closed his eyes, letting out a quiet breath. He ran his hands through his hair, but only tousled it more.

Hilda watched him a moment longer, looking at the mess he made of himself. Seemed like she had no other choice. With a resigned and embellished sigh, she walked to the other side of Claude’s table and started tugging off her gloves.

Claude looked up when she plopped them on top of his maps. He raised a brow. “What are you doing?”

“Fixing something,” Hilda said cheerfully. She leaned over the maps, propped her elbows on the table, and started running her fingers through his hair. Claude’s eyebrows quirked, but he said nothing. She set to work smoothing back his widow’s peak, tucking in every errant curl. “You’re the head of the Alliance, aren’t you? You could at least look the part, even if no one is around to see you.”

“…Is that what was bugging you?” Claude gave her an amused look, but he didn’t pull away.

“Mhm. Now for once, hold still.” She turned his head side to side, tiding up what she could. There was always that one strand Claude kept hanging in his face. When Hilda tucked it back, he pulled it back out. She lightly swatted his hand. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself. If I looked _too_ put together, people would suspect I’ve been replaced with an imposter. Besides, I like it.”

Hilda rolled her eyes. “You’re so picky about the weirdest things, you know that?”

“Says the woman who won’t do a chore even if it’s her idea.” Claude chided, clicking his tongue. “Details matter, especially in war.”

“Um, it’s your hair, Claude. Not a battlefield,” she teased, smiling despite herself. “I have to say, you’ve really grown into yourself. You actually look like the head of the Alliance!”

He smiled. “You’re too kind. It’s the beard that sells it.”

“Is that so? Let me see…” She brought her hands to his face, smoothing her thumbs down his jaw. He didn’t seem to mind the preening, even leaning into it with a mock pleased expression. “Hmm, yeah! I think it works. You look so-”

“Noble? Dashing?” Claude’s eyes danced. “Capable of leading the Alliance to victory against the threat of the Empire?”

Hilda stopped. “I was going to say you look like Alois.”

Claude’s jaw dropped. He sat silent for a long moment, Hilda’s hands still on his face. “That is… The _best_ compliment I have ever received. Thank you. Really.”

Hilda fought a giggle, tickling his beard a little more. It hit her just how long it had been since they were together, how much and yet how little had changed. Claude was still laid back, quick-witted. He never showed it off before, but he was strong and dependable. His eyes held his secrets, but also a faint glimmer of hope that this war wouldn’t be their end, that _he_ would make sure of that. The years didn’t change much except for the set of his jaw, the swell of his chest… Though the feeling of her fingers through his hair, that stayed the same.

“…Guess I picked a good look,” Claude muttered, smiling crookedly. “You can’t seem to take your hands off me.”

…Whoops, she had been staring too long. Hilda blinked as she tried not to blush. “J-just making sure you’re presentable. But I’ve done my best.” Then, because the urge was there, and she didn’t _really_ see the harm of it, Hilda leaned in and gave him a quick peck on his forehead. “There,” she said, standing straight again. “The Hilda Seal of Approval.”

“Aah, perfect!” Claude leaned back with an easy smile. “I am a new man.”

Hilda smiled, glancing away. “Well, I’m glad you’re less of a mess than I expected. Guess I’ll leave you to your work…”

“Why not stay?” he asked, shrugging. “I could bounce a few ideas off you. You’re my supply head, after all.”

Hilda bit her lip a little. “I don’t know how helpful I’ll be with planning a march.”

Crossing his arms, Claude shook his head. “Hilda, give yourself a chance… When we were younger you would chant _your own name_ after you struck a man down. Since then, I’ve always found it strange you would deflect a compliment.”

“Ugh, I did do that, huh…” And it wasn’t like Hilda intended to become the go-to for supplies. It’s just something that happened on its own. She ignored the rest of Claude’s question and retrieved her gloves, tucking them under her arm. “In any case, I’m off to the dining hall. You should come too! Leave these dusty maps behind and think about something else, just for a little bit.”

He let out a breath, nodding as he looked at the maps, the lamp, the scattered notes that hadn’t been touched in so long. “You know what? I’m suddenly famished.” Claude got to his feet. He took a long moment to stretch, his white shirt tightening over his arms and chest, before pulling on his coat. “The maps will still be here, the valley isn’t going anywhere, but food may not stay. I can remember eating breakfast today, but for lunch, well…”

Hilda scoffed. “Excuse me, you’ll waste away like that! All your talk about wanting a big feast, and yet-”

“I’m joking!” Claude put up a hand while the other tightened the sash at his waist. He picked up the roster list and tucked it under his arm. “Please, I don’t need the lecture. Just some good company while I eat. What do you say?”

Tapping her chin, Hilda headed out of the library, swaying as she walked. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to go find someone fit for the job.”

“…Hilda, I obviously meant you. Can we stop joking? I am genuinely starving.”

“Then you’re in luck!” Hilda turned on her heel, winking at him. “Turns out I am the _only_ person qualified.”


End file.
